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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28134888">Prologue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lake_arrius_caverns/pseuds/lake_arrius_caverns'>lake_arrius_caverns</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prophecy or Destiny [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Banter, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Minor Character Death, Strong Language, including the c word</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:54:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28134888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lake_arrius_caverns/pseuds/lake_arrius_caverns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fahjoth and Ribyna Vetharys were relatively content on the Imperial City Waterfront, until a confrontation with a Daedric cult changes everything and the twins realise that their lives will never be the same again.</p><p>(Prequel to Nerevarine Rising)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prophecy or Destiny [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061156</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Reupload because I’m a fool xoxo</p><p>So yea. Now we doing this for real lmao</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>12ᵗʰ of Second Seed, 3E 421</em>
</p><p>“Does anyone believe in prophecy? Or destiny?”</p><p>Silence overtook the makeshift camp following the question, directed at nobody in particular. For a few seconds none of the group spoke, the only sound being the merry crackling of the fire sitting on the shoreline of the Imperial City Waterfront. All eyes were now on the ginger Breton, Merrick, whose expression was rather blank as he stared at the fire, lost in deep thought. Absently he petted the head of a large black and grey dog that sat beside him, her tail wagging lazily with contentment. </p><p>“What brought that on?” asked a Dunmer, Nari, her brow raised inquisitively. </p><p>Merrick finally looked up, catching Nari’s eye and shrugging. “Don’t know. Just... something I read-“</p><p>“Oh, look out. Merrick’s been <em> reading </em>again!” Fahjoth, another Dunmer, teased as he ran his fingers through his choppy black hair, eliciting a round of laughter from the gathered crowd. Their number was modest tonight - most appeared to be off doing their own thing, if they weren’t currently incarcerated. </p><p>“Wonder which book he nicked this time?” Cassius, a fair-haired Imperial and the de-facto group leader, smirked at Merrick. Despite his young age, he was a talented strategist and thus far the group had thrived under his competent tactics.</p><p> Merrick’s freckled cheeks flushed bright pink and he opened his mouth to argue, before settling on a pout instead as he drew a black leatherbound book out from his satchel.</p><p>“It’s <em> The Book of the Dragonborn,” </em> he explained, opening the book and thumbing absently through the pages. “It details the contents of an Elder Scroll-“</p><p>“The fuck is an Elder Scroll?” </p><p>“-and the prophecy written in it,” Merrick continued, smiling slightly as his dog buried her nose in his hand. “It’s really interesting. But I’m not sure what to think about the concept of predeterminism and all that.” </p><p>“Merrick, mate...” Cassius started. “No offence, but I don’t think anyone here knows what the fuck you’re talking about.” </p><p>Before Merrick could respond, a rustling from the bushes nearby caught everyone’s attention and instantly put everyone on edge - but the group heaved a collective sigh of relief when a third Dunmer, bearing a striking similarity to Fahjoth, emerged in the shadows, hauling a rather large sack along with them. </p><p>“Ey, there she is!” Fahjoth exclaimed cheerfully. “What’ve you-“ </p><p>As quickly as the previous tension left, it doubled back, more palpable than ever. Now illuminated by the glow of the fire, her grave countenance eased into wary relief as she approached, yet did not leave entirely.</p><p>“And she’s alone,” Cassius remarked, suspicion evident in word and gaze. </p><p>“We lost Shorbjorn,” Ribyna said dully, dropping onto the grass besides Fahjoth and resting her head on her hand. Fahjoth’s face fell in mirrored grief, and he immediately offered his twin a bottle of brandy. Ribyna accepted the drink without a second glance and began to drink without hesitation.</p><p>“Ribyna?” Cassius prompted after a few seconds of deafening silence. “What the fuck happened?”</p><p>Ribyna’s expression was stony as she eventually responded. “We were seen. Bad timing. The fucker called for the city guard and about 10 of them all came running. That cunt of a captain, Rusant. He was there.” </p><p>A murmur of displeasure rippled throughout the gathering. An altercation with the newly-appointed captain of the city guard, Leonius Rusant, did not bode well for anyone unlucky enough to be involved. “And?” Cassius frowned. “What then? You’re both fast, what was the problem?” </p><p>“Shorbjorn tripped. That’s what the problem was,” Ribyna answered. “They were on him like flies on shit in seconds. He yelled for me to keep running, so I did...”</p><p>Once again a somber silence fell over the group, before Abik, a Redguard, spoke up in a low, gravelly tone.</p><p>“It’s alright. It’s only petty theft- he’ll get one, maybe two years at the most-” he began, cautious, but Ribyna cut him off with a dry scoff devoid of humor.</p><p>“Nah. Shorbjorn decided to fight back. Decked the Captain right in the face. Busted his nose. I heard Rusant - <em>’I’ll see you hung for that!’”</em></p><p>Once again, a heavy quiet settled over the once cheerful camp, everyone’s faces now reflecting sorrow or anger or a combination of the two. Eventually, the silence was broken by a small Argonian. </p><p>“And you just <em> ran?!” </em>Taneen-Mil spat indignantly at Ribyna, who instantly tensed her shoulders and glared back at him. “You could’ve helped him!”</p><p>“And got myself arrested as well?!” Ribyna snapped back. “Yeah, that would’ve been fucking helpful! You would’ve had a shitload of fun starving for a week without any food!” </p><p>“Guys,” Abik interrupted before the confrontation could escalate any further, scratching his beard with exasperation. “Quiet. Taneen, Ribyna wouldn’t have stood a chance. She did right by running away.”</p><p>Taneen couldn’t argue, and so he simply settled into a huffing silence. A few moments later though, he stood up. “I’m going to bed,” he announced bitterly. “See you tomorrow.” </p><p>Not long after he departed, the other group members also stood up and bid their various farewells. Before leaving, one of them, a dark-haired Imperial named Vykstrus, stared grimly at Merrick. </p><p>“This is why the whole prophecy, destiny, whatever thing is bullshit. You reckon Shorbjorn was <em> destined </em> to die like this?”</p><p>“Leave it, Vyk,” the Bosmer Aerlewen murmured. “Come on.” </p><p>A younger Bosmer, Siriel, cast a melancholy look back towards the group, before they too slunk away and disappeared into the shadows after the others. Eventually, all that remained was Cassius, Fahjoth, Abik, Merrick and Ribyna, the latter of which was still seething judging by the sour look on her face. Merrick gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.</p><p>“You don’t blame yourself, do you?” he asked, looking mournful himself. Ribyna didn’t respond for a few moments, but eventually she heaved a despondent sigh.</p><p>“I do wonder if... if there was something I could’ve done,” she admitted. Abik was quick to reassure her. </p><p>“Course not. You were outnumbered five to one, kid,” he pointed out. “That’s the way of life for us out here. Either you’re fast and agile enough to escape, or you get caught. Simple as that.“</p><p>Ribyna still looked troubled, so Fahjoth pulled her into a rough, one-armed hug. “We’re just glad you made it back safe,” he told her. “What would I have done without my little nuisance, eh?”</p><p>Ribyna managed a small grin at that, playfully pushing Fahjoth away. Cassius, despite still looking disappointed, nodded in agreement. “They’re right. It’s better to lose one of us than to lose two.” Eventually he stood up, looking down at Fahjoth curiously. “I’m off. You coming?”</p><p>Fahjoth shook his head. “I think I’ll stay here tonight.” He shot a subtle glance towards his twin and back, and Cassius nodded in understanding. </p><p>“Yeah, don’t worry. See you tomorrow then.” He leaned down briefly to give Fahjoth a kiss, before turning and pacing quietly away into the darkness. </p><p>Abik stood with his hands in his pockets, staring thoughtfully up at the stars. “Someone‘s gonna.. <em> take care </em> of Rusant before long, you mark my words,” he said. “Maybe the Gray Fox will step in, if we’re lucky. All I know is.. things can’t keep on like this.” After stretching with a roll of his shoulders, he turned his gaze down to Merrick. “You ready, Merrick?”</p><p>Merrick slowly nodded, watching Ribyna with concern. “Yeah...” He slowly got to his feet and rubbed Ribyna's shoulder sympathetically. “Try not to worry, Ribyna. It wasn’t your fault, ok?” </p><p>Ribyna looked up at Merrick, touching his hand with her own and managing a small smile of gratitude. “Yeah... cheers, mate. See you tomorrow.”</p><p>“Bye. Come, Pip.” Merrick headed off in Abik’s wake with his dog trotting along beside him, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to throw a smile or a wave at the twins. Ribyna watched him go, then turned to Fahjoth.</p><p>“You didn’t have to stay with me, y’know,” she pointed out. “I’m fine.”</p><p>Fahjoth chuckled dryly. “It’s fine. I wanted to. I can get some anytime.”</p><p>Ribyna wrinkled her nose in distaste and chortled. “Too much information, bro. Gods, you’re a humble bastard, aren’t you?”</p><p>“You know it.” Fahjoth grinned, but then his face fell into a worried frown. “You had a close call tonight, y’know. You’ll have to be more careful in future.”</p><p>“Really? I was thinking of going in with a blindfold on next time.”</p><p>“I’m serious,” Fahjoth sighed. “We’ve been lucky so far, but more and more of us are getting nicked by the day. Sorak, Pif and now Shorbjorn...” He lapsed into silence, staring into the flames for a few moments. “Right, come on then. Let’s get some sleep ourselves.” </p><p>Fahjoth stood up and tossed a nearby bucket of water on the woodpile, extinguishing the fire and plunging them into darkness. Once their eyes became used to the gloom, the Waterfront was bathed in the cool silver glow of the waning moons above. “Let’s hope those bastard rats haven’t chewed through our shit again.” </p><p>Ribyna nodded mutely, hauling herself to her feet and trudging after her twin brother towards shelter. Despite her friends’ reassurances, there was a heavy weight in her gut that just wouldn’t shift, the night’s events replaying over and over in her mind until eventually she would find sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>19ᵗʰ of Midyear, 3E 421</em>
</p><p>Ribyna’s brows were furrowed in concentration as she stared at the page in front of her, while Merrick remained silent and patient as per usual. </p><p>“Any idea?” he asked, watching Ribyna curiously. </p><p>Ribyna didn’t respond for a few seconds. Eventually, she spoke in a rather less than confident tone, “Kitty.”</p><p>A mild chuckle fell from Merrick’s lips. “It’s ‘city’,” he informed her, prompting a frustrated groan from the Ribyna. </p><p>“Ugh, I give up! This is too fucking complicated,” Ribyna complained, pushing the book aside. Merrick took it and placed it back in his rucksack, sympathetic to Ribyna’s struggle. </p><p>“I know, it can be difficult to get to grips with. But you’re doing really well,” he reassured her. “I mean, you’re only seventeen. I was-...” He paused, biting his lip and having to fight back a grin. “Okay, I was seven when I learned to read, but we have totally different circumstances. I bet it’s even harder to learn when you’re older.” </p><p>“You’re such a smartarse, Merry,” Ribyna huffed. “Maybe I’m better off sticking to what I’m actually good at. Sneaking around and stealing shit!”</p><p>“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Merrick shrugged. “But being able to read is a good skill to have.” </p><p>“Maybe. But I’m stupid,” Ribyna pointed out, completely unabashed. “I’m not clever like you are.”</p><p>Merrick snorted. “Oh yeah, cause Vykstrus can read, and he’s just <em> so </em> smart-“ Unfortunately, he was sharply cut off by the approach of a tall, lanky figure, who came striding into the Waterfront camp and swiftly passed the two. The look on his face as he glared at them indicated that he knew exactly what had been said, and Merrick and Ribyna slumped against each other as they dissolved into hysterical sniggers.</p><p>“Good timing,” Ribyna muttered, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she watched Vykstrus approaching Cassius. Merrick tried desperately to restore a straight face, but his attempts were in vain. </p><p>“It’s always the way!” he giggled, before he began to pay attention to Vykstrus. The disgruntled look on his face hadn’t budged, even as he spoke to Cassius; then Merrick noticed that Cassius looked equally as annoyed. He nudged Ribyna and subtly gestured over to the pair deep in discussion, and she stopped laughing to try to eavesdrop as well. What news had Vykstrus brought? </p><p>Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long to find out.</p><p>“Oi, everyone, listen,” Cassius called, getting to his feet. “Vyk’s been doing what Vyk does best, and he’s seen those bastard Sanguine worshippers skulking around again.” </p><p>Cassius paused briefly as there was a minor outpouring of anger and indignation from the listeners. The Sanguine worshippers were vastly unpopular; the general consensus was that they were nothing but a rowdy bunch of revellers, who were out causing trouble just for the sake of it. Drinking and causing a commotion in the streets, they were a far cry from the group who made their homes along the City Waterfront, where life was often a struggle to survive and every effort was put into <em> not </em> drawing attention to themselves. If the Daedric cult were encroaching onto the city, then the guard patrols would be increased tenfold, making the gang’s meticulously organised pillages for food and supplies that much more difficult. </p><p>“We need to send them another warning to stay the fuck away from us, and if they don’t, then...” Cassius’ face was hard and stony as he continued. “Then we’ll just have to teach them the hard way.”</p><p>There was a mixed response from the gathered crowd, and Ribyna turned to Merrick grimly. “Does he mean what I think he means?”</p><p>“I think so,” Merrick sighed, feeling a mild sense of foreboding beginning to settle uncomfortably in his gut. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’m sure Cassius will find a way to sort it.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Ribyna agreed. “Those bastard Daedra fuckers... they give the rest of us scumbags a bad fucking name!” </p><p>“I don’t think you need any help to give yourself a bad name,” Merrick teased, and Ribyna shoved his shoulder with a cackle. </p><p>“Oi, watch it you!” </p><p>Merrick chuckled, but once again his attention was drawn by another Dunmer approaching Cassius. As soon as Ribyna realised, she too fell quiet in an effort to overhear what Fahjoth had to say. When they had little success she tapped Merrick’s shoulder, gesturing for him to follow her over. He nodded, and very nonchalantly, the pair got up and wandered slightly closer. Once near enough, they hid behind a corner of one of the small houses dotted along the lakefront and stayed silent to listen in. </p><p>“And what if they <em> don’t </em> agree to leave?” Fahjoth was saying, the concern evident in his voice. It was odd to hear him sounding so serious, as he was usually so carefree and relaxed. It was even stranger to see him looking so displeased with his boyfriend, who could normally do no wrong in Fahjoth’s eyes. </p><p>“They will,” Cassius grumbled. “They have to. I’m not having them hanging around and putting us all in danger. Who knows how much damage they’re capable of-?”</p><p><em> “Exactly, </em> Cassius!” Fahjoth sounded frustrated now. “They’re a <em> Daedric cult, </em> in case you’d forgotten! They could have all sorts of.. I dunno, dark magic fuckery that we’d just be throwing ourselves into! Is it really worth the risk?”</p><p>“Don’t be so stupid,” came Cassius’ heated response. “You know what I meant. They’re a bunch of glorified drunks who just like to cause chaos. We show up, flash some blades and they’ll piss off with their tails between their legs, I’d bet you any amount of gold.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, it probably won’t even come to that.”</p><p>“Well, I just hope you’re right,” Fahjoth muttered, before turning and walking off with his hands sullenly in his pockets. Cassius looked for a moment as though he wanted to call after Fahjoth, then huffed and turned to speak to another person instead. </p><p>Ribyna then turned to look at Merrick, chewing her lip with apprehension. “D’you reckon he’s right?” she asked, while Merrick felt equally troubled. Fahjoth’s words of warning had certainly given them a lot to think about, and only solidified Merrick’s own misgivings about the situation.</p><p>“I dunno,” he admitted. “To be honest, though... I think Fahjoth’s got a point. Things could get nasty. But... hopefully not.” </p><p>Ribyna was quiet as she watched Shadra, the Redguard woman who Cassius had been speaking to, briskly walk off; she headed in the direction of the Imperial City, presumably to find the cultists and pass on Cassius’ threatening message. </p><p>“Yeah... hopefully.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>23ʳᵈ of Midyear, 3E 421</em>
</p><p>Fahjoth’s mood was as dull as the weather as he hastily returned to the Waterfront, completely drenched from head to toe as a result of the sudden onslaught of rain that showed no sign of letting up anytime soon. Typical of the skies to open up while he was wandering around the Market District of the city, strolling around while trying to work through the muddled thoughts circling in his head. He had been in a dour mood when he embarked, and now it was even worse on his return.  </p><p>He should have seen it coming, he reflected ruefully; the thick blanket of heavy, dark cloud overhead had not shifted since it first settled in that morning. There was bound to have been a downpour sooner or later. But Fahjoth had to get away from the Waterfront for a while, to go somewhere where he could be alone with his thoughts. And there was plenty to think about. </p><p>They should be hearing from Shadra soon enough, bringing news from the cult currently spending far too much time in the city. The problems were already apparent - within hours of their arrival, the guard patrols had increased and even the most mellow of innkeepers and traders were on edge. And yet, Fahjoth wasn’t confident that a direct confrontation would go at all as well as Cassius seemed to anticipate. </p><p>Fahjoth felt another flicker of bitterness in his chest. Cassius, in all his unrelenting stubbornness, had refused to listen to Fahjoth’s attempts to reason with him. It wasn’t the first time, but now, when it came to such an unpredictable affair, he was frustrated that Cassius had declined to even consider listening to him. Not only was it infuriating, but it was slightly hurtful as well. </p><p>So he had taken a walk in an effort to clear his mind and relax; perhaps stop by the docks on the way back and watch the boats drifting back and forth, as he and Ribyna had done with Abik so often growing up. But his plans were spoiled as he got caught in the lashing rain, ending up soaked to the skin and in an even worse mood than before. It was with some slight relief that he reached the Waterfront again, immediately spotting a welcome sight; a large tent comprised of leather and linen sheets, under which a handful of people and a dog sat. Even through the rain-haze, it was easy to identify Ribyna, Merrick and Abik, and Fahjoth didn’t hesitate to approach, immediately ducking under the shelter to join them. </p><p>“Alright, lads?” he said by way of greeting, roughly shaking his head like a wet dog and allowing a shower of droplets to come flying from his shaggy black hair. Ribyna groaned in annoyance, leaning over to protect the piece of parchment that she and Merrick were holding. </p><p>“For fuck’s sake, Fahjoth, you’re gonna ruin our map!” she complained, staring at him reproachfully. “Where’ve you been, anyway?” </p><p>“Just for a walk,” Fahjoth replied, slightly unwilling to go into detail. He managed a smile as </p><p>Pip came shuffling over to greet him, wagging her tail and poking her nose into Fahjoth’s face as she lathered her tongue over his nose. With a humorous grimace, he playfully pushed her away until she lay back down and then turned his attention back to his twin and the others. “What’ve you been up to?”</p><p>“Me and Merrick have been reading this map,” Ribyna said, puffing her chest out with pride. “I can pronounce Fana... Fanasces...” She stopped and grimaced. “Well, I could five minutes ago! I’ve forgotten now.” </p><p>“Never mind the Ayleid ruins,” Merrick interjected with a smile. “She can spell Cheydinhal now! Without needing to look.”</p><p>“Yeah!” Ribyna agreed, beaming. “See, I <em> am </em> getting better.” When Fahjoth didn’t offer much of a response, Ribyna reached out and prodded his shoulder. “Come on. What’s the matter?” </p><p>Again, Fahjoth didn’t respond immediately. He simply sat in silence, absently ruffling Pip’s ears and listening to the muffled crackling of the raindrops hitting the sheets overhead. “It’s just... I haven’t spoken to Cassius since... well, since we argued. I’m kind of worried about what’s gonna happen with this cult. If they don’t agree to piss off, and we do end up going to ‘deal with them’... well, I told him it could be dangerous, but he won’t even listen to me!” He winced as he heard the frustration seeping into his voice during his rant. “He <em> never </em> listens to me. Normally it’s fine, y’know, I can deal with it, but... <em> this? </em> It’s like he always knows best, even when we’ve got no idea what we could be up against. How can he possibly know for sure?” </p><p>His three companions remained silent and attentive while Fahjoth ranted, and once he was done he felt his cheeks flush warm with embarrassment. But then Abik spoke up in his usual calm, reassuring tone. </p><p>“For what it’s worth, I agree with you,” he said. “I do think we need to be more careful. A lot of people seem to agree with Cassius though. They’re gonna go along with whatever he suggests. So I reckon the only thing we can do is be there for them, whatever happens.” His dark brown eyes were pensive as he continued. “From what I’ve heard from Vyk, right now, we’ve got the advantage over them in numbers. The worst thing we could do as a group is fracture and split up.” </p><p>“Plus, it might not even come to that,” Merrick piped up, ever hopeful. “They might just leave without making a fuss. I don’t think it’s helpful to worry about something when we don’t even know what’s going to happen yet.” </p><p>Ribyna nodded enthusiastically in agreement, and Fahjoth dipped his head to the three, admittedly beginning to feel reassured. “Yeah... I suppose,” he said cautiously. “It’s just hard not to, y’know?”</p><p>“Of course. But, Fahjoth...” Abik added. “You should talk to Cassius about this too. Tell him how you feel. Communication is important.” His expression became momentarily grave. “Not to mention... if the worst does happen, you’d never forgive yourself if you two didn’t make amends. Trust me.” </p><p>Fahjoth inhaled, knowing full well that Abik was right. “Yeah... I’ll- I’ll find him later. ... I will!” he insisted, raising his palms up defensively on seeing Abik give him a knowing look. Abik merely chuckled. </p><p>“Good. I don’t like it when you kids argue,” he sighed. “We’ve got to stick together and look out for each other out here, ‘cause Talos knows no-one else will.” </p><p>“Kids?” Ribyna questioned. “We’re not that young!”</p><p>“Compared to me, you might as well be,” Abik chortled. “I’ve been here long enough that I’ve raised half of the people here. Including you lot. It’s like a family - a dysfunctional family, but a family still.”</p><p>“You can’t spell dysfunctional without <em> fun,” </em> Merrick chimed in, and Abik pointed at him emphatically. </p><p>“Merrick’s got it. Anyway, bottom line is, you’re all basically my kids. So for gods’ sakes, can you all just get along? That‘d be <em> great.” </em></p><p>Ribyna snorted with laughter. “Hah! What, d’you want us to start calling you <em> dad </em> now? ‘Cause we will! Soppy old git.”</p><p>Abik laughed, though he didn’t rise to the teasing. Instead he focused on Fahjoth again. “Still worried, mate?”</p><p>Though the discussion had been a welcome distraction, Fahjoth found his mind wandering back to the troubles at hand yet again. “Yeah,” he admitted. </p><p>Before Abik could respond, Ribyna had risen to her feet. “Come on then!” she declared, loping out of the shelter and standing in the sodden grass, beckoning Fahjoth to join her. “Let’s have a match. Get some practise in for when we go to war!”</p><p>“What, now?” Fahjoth replied incredulously. “In the rain?”</p><p>“Where else?” Ribyna shot back, splaying her arms out tauntingly and raising her voice over the endless lashing of the rain against the saturated ground. “Run at me, bro!”</p><p>Dumbfounded for a moment, Fahjoth hesitated. Then, he shrugged and bounced to his feet, darting out into the torrential downpour and squaring up his twin. “Alright, come on then!” he called. As Ribyna whipped out a dagger, Fahjoth did the same; the goal wasn’t to injure, of course, but any practise would be useful. </p><p>“Just be careful, you two!” Abik warned, as he and Merrick watched with interest. “Try not to take any eyes out.” </p><p>Fahjoth and Ribyna began to prowl around each other, each holding back and waiting for the other to make a move. Eventually, Ribyna leapt forward and lunged out at her sibling’s shoulder with the flat side of the blade, which Fahjoth narrowly avoided by stumbling back with haste. He almost lost his footing on the damp grass, feeling his gut lurch as he suddenly slipped, but with a vigorous windmilling of his arms he was able to regain his balance. His recovery didn’t come fast enough, however, as Ribyna took her chance and jumped forward again with another mock whack of her dagger. Fahjoth grimaced as he felt the weapon connect with his ribs with a soft thud, and still wasn’t quick enough to block it with his own. Ribyna’s victorious smirk was both amusing and annoying. </p><p>“Got you!” she taunted, twirling the blade in her fingers. “If this was a real fight, you’d be so dead.”</p><p>“Ah come on, I slipped!” Fahjoth protested, remaining on guard in case Ribyna attacked again. Sure enough, she didn’t hesitate. </p><p>“Yeah? Well, slip on <em> this!” </em></p><p>This time, Fahjoth was expecting it. Keeping his stance firm and balanced, he was quick to retaliate - Ribyna’s dagger came sailing past his face as he sidestepped to avoid it, throwing up his own arm to knock Ribyna off-balance. However, a terrible error in judgement resulted in his bunched fist connecting sharply with Ribyna’s face. </p><p>After the second it took to process what had just happened, Fahjoth gasped and immediately retreated, dropping his dagger and bringing his hands up to his face in horror. “Oh fuck Beebs, I’m sorry-!” He blabbed his apologies as Ribyna stood there in mute shock, watching her own blood flowing from her nose and peppering the sodden grass underfoot, mixing with the raindrops and forming watery maroon stains which lay stark against the greenery.</p><p>“I told you both to be careful,” Abik groaned. He and Merrick both rose to check on Ribyna, as Fahjoth took a few cautious steps forward himself, but before anyone had a chance to speak, Ribyna pounced. She threw her full body weight into Fahjoth, tackling him to the ground and somehow managing to secure him into a tight headlock before he could even react. </p><p>“Right, that’s it! You’re getting it now!”</p><p>“Ribyna-!”</p><p>Though it was a relief to know that Ribyna was relatively alright, Fahjoth still wasn’t too keen for a wrestling match at that moment - especially not in the pouring rain over muddy, sludgy ground. But he took the challenge and gave it his best, reluctant to be bested by his twin. Unfortunately, try as he might to free himself, Ribyna wasn’t showing any sign of letting Fahjoth escape; to exacerbate matters, their antics had attracted Pip’s attention, who came bounding over to them with excited barks. Tail flailing from side to side, she lunged at Fahjoth, once again licking his face as she joined the fray. </p><p>“Say you surrender!” she jeered, grinning wickedly as she held her brother tightly in an unforgiving chokehold. </p><p>“Gerroff! You’re getting blood all over me!” Fahjoth exclaimed, wrinkling his nose in disgust despite laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Eventually though, he figured it would be better to give in. “Alright, alright! I surrender! Now for fuck’s sake, get off-!”</p><p>At last, Ribyna accepted his yield and she let Fahjoth go, snickering as she returned to the tent and attempted to wipe the blood from her face. Fahjoth trooped in after her once he managed to calm Pip down again, soaking wet and covered in mud from the rain, while Merrick was on hand to offer Ribyna a handkerchief for her nose. </p><p>“Right, well, have you two gotten that out of your systems?” Abik asked, brow raised as he appraised the twins with a mock stern expression, and the both of them grinned back sheepishly.</p><p>“Yup. That was fun,” Ribyna said, holding the handkerchief to her nose. Abik scoffed and shook his head in response, while Merrick gently held Ribyna’s face with one hand and raised the other to her nose. </p><p>“I think we’ve got different definitions of ‘fun’, Beebs,” he remarked, a warm golden glow beginning to radiate from his palm. Ribyna sat still and allowed herself to be healed, grinning all the while. </p><p>“At least we know I can kick Fahjoth’s arse, whatever the weather,” she drawled, and Fahjoth snorted derisively. </p><p>“Says the one who’s covered in their own blood!” he retorted, unable to contain a laugh. Abik rolled his eyes and tossed Fahjoth over a clean scrap of linen, and the four of them winced as Pip entered the shelter and shook off her thick grey fur, covering them all in flecks of dirty water. </p><p>“Get yourself cleaned up too, Fahjoth. Don’t want you dripping muck all over the place.”</p><p>Fahjoth obliged, gazing around the shelter in admiration as he stopped to really take it in. “How’d you keep it so dry in here, anyway? I thought it’d be soaked through by now in this weather.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s just Merrick being a <em> genius,” </em> Ribyna answered him proudly. “He used a water walking spell on the top. It’s keeping the water right off!” </p><p>Merrick blushed, dismissing the praise with a wave of his hand. “It was quite simple. Not a big deal at all, really.”</p><p>“You say that, but magic is hard! Me and Ribyna can barely manage a flame spell between us,” Fahjoth laughed. Ribyna, however, appeared inspired. </p><p>“After this cult bullshit is done with, can you teach me some spells?” she asked, gingerly tapping her nose as Merrick finished up his healing magic. He paused, seemingly surprised before he nodded with enthusiasm. </p><p>“Yeah, course I can! What d’you want to learn the most?”</p><p>“Everything!” Ribyna gushed. “Healing, fireballs, invisibility- oh, and levitation! Imagine being able to just <em> fly </em> whenever you want!”</p><p>Merrick responded with a wry grin. “Even if I knew levitation magic, I couldn’t teach it to you. Didn’t you know? They banned it earlier this year.”</p><p>Ribyna’s face fell at the news. “What?!” she exclaimed, not bothering to hide her disappointment. “Seriously? That’s bullshit!”</p><p>Merrick shrugged with a sympathetic smile. “I know, it’s a shame. I wouldn’t have minded learning it myself.”</p><p>“Maybe it’s for the best. I think I’d shit myself if I saw Ribyna suddenly flying towards me in midair,” Fahjoth commented, laughing as Ribyna pouted and gave him the middle finger in response. However, Fahjoth’s attention was suddenly grabbed by the arrival of a blonde Imperial to the Waterfront, and he bit his lip with trepidation while considering his options. A knowing look from Abik settled his resolve, and Fahjoth stood up once more. “Hey lads, I’m just gonna...” He gestured vaguely towards the newcomer, and his companions nodded in understanding. </p><p>“Good luck!” Merrick said, giving Fahjoth a thumbs up. </p><p>“If he upsets you again, come tell me and I’ll beat him up!” Ribyna added, and Fahjoth snorted. </p><p>“Yeah, I believe you! I’ll let you know,” Fahjoth joked, flashing them all a grin before taking a deep breath and stepping out into the downpour once more. Jogging slightly to catch up with the Imperial, Fahjoth raised his voice. “Cassius!”</p><p>Cassius stopped, squinting against the rain as Fahjoth hastened to catch up with him. The awkward air between them was more than tangible, and Fahjoth was for a moment lost for words. “Can we talk-?” he started, only to shut his mouth instantly as Cassius spoke. </p><p>“Look, Fahjoth, I’ve been thinking, and I... I need to apologise,” he said, his expression remorseful. “I shouldn’t have just... dismissed your worries like that.”</p><p>“Oh...” Rather stunned by the quick turnaround, Fahjoth managed a weak smile. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“You know what I’m like. I can be such a dick sometimes.” Cassius shot Fahjoth a grateful smile, offering out his hand which he took without hesitation. “Are we okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, course we are,” Fahjoth replied, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment and relief as he gave Cassius’ hand an affectionate squeeze. “Has there been any news yet?”</p><p>“Not yet, but I can’t see Shadra being much longer. She should be back... any time now, really.” Cassius turned his gaze out towards Lake Rumare, softly intertwining his fingers with Fahjoth’s. “You’re not still worrying, are you? ‘Cause I promise, I wouldn’t have challenged them if I thought there was any real danger.”</p><p>Deep down, Fahjoth did indeed still have his misgivings, but he decided to hide them for the sake of avoiding confrontation. Instead, he shook his head. “I’m fine. I was talking to Abik and Merrick as well, and... well, I feel a bit better.”</p><p>“Oh yeah? Gossiping about me, were you?” Cassius teased, and Fahjoth playfully knocked his shoulder against his. </p><p>“Not everything’s about you, y’know!”</p><p>“Hm, I dunno. That sounds fake,” Cassius laughed, only to pause and look around as another voice suddenly called for him, loud and clear despite the incessant rain and soft rumbling of thunder in the distance. </p><p>“Cassius.” </p><p>Instantly, Fahjoth’s worries returned and amplified tenfold as Shadra approached them. The look on her face was enough to tell them everything, but Cassius inquired anyway. </p><p>“What’s the verdict?”</p><p>Shadra paused to take a deep breath, before making the grim announcement Fahjoth had been dreading. </p><p>“They didn’t take the bait. They’re meeting us here at dawn. Tomorrow.”</p><p><em> “Tomorrow?” </em> Cassius frowned, suddenly looking concerned. Evidently he hadn’t been expecting such a development so soon. “Alright... cheers, Shadra. Let everyone you can know... I still don’t think it’ll come to anything, but we need to make sure we’re all armed as well.” </p><p>“On it,” Shadra replied, dipping her head towards them both before departing once more. Cassius turned to Fahjoth, trying to look reassuring but failing to completely conceal his grim expression. </p><p>“It’ll be fine, Fahjoth. Try not to worry, alright?”</p><p>He leaned in close to leave a soft kiss on Fahjoth’s lips, before excusing himself and walking off into the haze. Fahjoth watched him go, then glanced over to the makeshift shelter, where three pairs of inquisitive eyes stared back. Fahjoth heaved a sigh. He was well and truly soaked by now under the lashing rain, but somehow he no longer cared, and he frowned and rubbed his brow with unease. </p><p>“Gods, I wish I had your confidence...”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>24ᵗʰ of Midyear, 3E 421</em>
</p><p>After a restless night’s sleep for many, daybreak arrived much too quickly, and with it came a biting chill that felt out of place for the average Midyear morning. A thick fog lay upon the Waterfront, ensuring the mood was one of apprehension for the approaching showdown. For the number of people eager to see it done — whether to ensure their safety or motivated by self-interest, or the simple desire for aggression in their frustrating world — there were just as many who were fearful for whatever the eventual outcome would be. Fahjoth was among the latter, and he spent much of the dawn hours pacing around the Waterfront, observing the actions of his friends and fellows. </p><p>Not like Ribyna, who had been up as the first vestige of sunrise shone through the thick grey clouds and had immediately begun preparing with Merrick, insisting that he helped her practise what little magic she was capable of. Fahjoth was envious — he was unable to focus that much even if he tried. </p><p>After what felt like too much and too little time simultaneously, the sixth hour arrived, and after Cassius had taken the initiative in gathering as many people as he could find to attend the meeting, Fahjoth winced at how few they were. Their numbers boasted no more than fifteen individuals; evidently the others had made themselves scarce so as to avoid the conflict. Fahjoth couldn’t blame them. </p><p>“Right, now remember,” Cassius had warned them all. “We aren’t <em> looking </em> for a fight. But we’re also not gonna be pushed around. This is <em> our </em> home and it’s hard enough to live without those wankers fucking things up for us. Remember what’s at stake.”</p><p>And then they were gathered by the docks, barely able to see more than five metres in any given direction due to the persistent mist. Fahjoth stuck close by Ribyna and Merrick at all times, feeling a kind of sober responsibility to keep an eye on them both as they stood hand-in-hand on the edge of the crowd. Ribyna, in an attempt to ward off the cold, tightened the fabric slung around her neck and shoulders, tugging it up over her nose to cover the lower half of her face. The early hour meant that guard patrols had not yet begun, and the gathering were left alone. </p><p>Standing, shivering. </p><p>Waiting. </p><p>If anyone — like Fahjoth — had been hoping that the cult would be a no-show, they were left severely disappointed by the arrival of a crowd of people suddenly materialising through the fog as they approached. Fahjoth felt his heart sink and his stomach tie itself up in knots, but there was still hope. As long as nobody acted rashly, there was still a chance this could all be smoothed over...</p><p>“We heard you wanted a word with us,” someone called as they stepped forward to stand at the head of the cult, the majority of whom were swathed in richly coloured robes and cloaks and, in some cases, wore masks to conceal their faces. Following the cultist’s statement, there was a ripple of discontent among the gathered crowd. Out of the corner of his eye, Fahjoth saw Ribyna take a tense swig from the bottle of whisky she’d brought with her. </p><p>Cassius took his cue and spoke up in a cool tone that carried a distinctly hard edge. “We’ll only give you one warning,” he said. “Piss off. Nobody wants you in this city.” </p><p>“And why should we listen to you?” the cultist replied smoothly. “It’s a free country, wouldn’t you say? We aren’t doing <em> you </em> good fellows any harm.”</p><p>“Of course you are!” Cassius snapped back, the frustration beginning to creep into his voice. “With the whole city on alert, you’re fucking up all our livelihoods!”</p><p>“Livelihoods? Is that what they’re calling thievery and pilfering nowadays?” This comment incited a laugh from the cult, and Fahjoth could feel the indignation radiating from many of his comrades. “Yes, sorry, as... <em> moving </em> as your dilemma is, we aren’t going anywhere.” </p><p>Cassius’ jaw clenched. “Then maybe this will change your minds.” In one fluid movement he snatched out a dagger, triggering a wave of movement from the attending Waterfront residents as several of them did the same. Fahjoth, however, hesitated. Things suddenly seemed to be going downhill, and fast. </p><p>For a moment, the cult did nothing. Then, to Fahjoth’s horror, several of them revealed their own weapons - ranging from blades of their own to majestic wooden staves. The tension shot up countless notches, but still, nobody dared strike. </p><p>The standoff continued. It seemed that neither side was particularly willing to make the first move. Fahjoth reminded himself that the longer they went without any physical aggression, the better; the guard patrols would soon begin, and then nobody would dare attack another in their presence. He willed the morning hours to progress, desperately pleaded with time to hurry up and offer them some form of respite. </p><p>However, they weren’t to be so fortunate. </p><p>The pressure finally boiled over and, sick of the vague threat posed by their opponents, one of the crowd finally moved. Fahjoth’s heart shuddered as he registered that it was Ribyna. </p><p>“Why don’t you cunts just fuck off?!” she snarled, brandishing her bottle of whisky at the cultists. Without waiting for a response she reached into a pocket, but instead of a weapon she pulled out a rag instead. By the time Fahjoth realised what she was about to do, it was much too late to stop her. </p><p>“Ribyna, <em> no-!” </em></p><p>But his twin had already stuffed the rag into the neck of the bottle. Already shaken it to soak the fabric through with the alcohol still inside. Already ignited the end of the rag with a bright orange flare produced from the centre of her palm. </p><p>Already thrown the incendiary at the opposition. </p><p>Time seemed to stand still as the flaming bottle spun through the air, hurtling relentlessly towards the cultists, many of whom weren’t quick enough to realise what was happening before the Ribyna’s makeshift firebomb reached them. </p><p>On contact with the ground, the bottle exploded in an eruption of blistering orange fire. Shards of red hot glass and blazing droplets of alcohol radiated out from the blast, burning the skin and clothes of anyone who wasn’t swift enough to clear the area. Outraged yells and shrieks of pain filled the still morning air, and it was then that the quiet docks broke out into complete chaos as the cultists — those who were uninjured enough to do so, or who weren’t helping to heal the wounded and extinguish the flames — immediately launched their retaliation. </p><p>With no other option left, the group responded in kind, and Fahjoth could only watch as the confrontation finally descended into violence. The sound of clashing blades now came from all sides, as well as the unearthly rush of magic as spells and staves were cast, the majority of which originated from the cultists. It was impossible to know where to focus; everywhere he looked, friends and loved ones were embroiled in physical combat with their adversaries and it didn’t take long for blood to begin to be spilt. </p><p>Glancing around, Fahjoth tried to focus but the sheer chaos of the brawl was throwing him into a mindless panic. <em> Focus! </em> he tried telling himself, frustrated with his own inability to concentrate in the midst of the furore. He had to do <em> something. </em> Then, something caught his eye through the frenzy. A Dunmer, coming to blows against a cloaked cultist, frantically blocking their sword with her own dagger and dancing around to avoid the gleaming silver blade. But, in one swift strike, Ribyna’s opponent got the better of her. They brought the sword sharply down onto Ribyna, who had no choice but to throw an arm up to protect herself. She gasped as, even with a mere glancing blow, the weapon gouged a deep incision in her forearm and in her haste to throw herself back out of harm’s way, she tripped and fell, landing with a harsh <em> thud </em> onto the unforgiving stonework. </p><p>Instantly, Fahjoth felt his blood boil. As the cultist advanced on Ribyna, sword held up and ready to strike again, Fahjoth’s feet were carrying him as fast as he could go towards them, propelled forward with the power of pure fury and the will to protect his twin. Weaving his way through the fray, barrelling carelessly past friend and foe alike, a chilling realisation gripped his heart. <em> He wasn’t going to make it there in time. </em></p><p>With seconds to spare, Fahjoth saw Ribyna cover her head with her arms — one of them badly bleeding — and curl up in a vague attempt to shield herself from the cultist’s attack. But then from seemingly out of nowhere, the cultist’s face was blitzed with a cloud of ice, causing them to recoil and stagger back. As Fahjoth drew near, he realised it was Merrick, blasting the cultist with a frost spell and warding them off. Making a mental note to thank Merrick for that later, Fahjoth finally reached them, raising his fist and slamming it into the cultist’s frost-coated face before he even had time to think. </p><p>The cultist was knocked to the ground, dazed and blinded by snow, but Fahjoth was livid. He dropped over the cultist and again and again his fists collided with their face, with Fahjoth ignoring his knuckles becoming bloodier and bloodier with every hit. </p><p>Gradually the mental fog of aggression slowly cleared, and as he stopped to catch his breath, Fahjoth heard someone calling his name. Looking over his shoulder, his chest heaving with ragged pants, he faced Merrick and Ribyna, the two of them watching him with blank looks on their faces while Merrick was healing Ribyna’s arm injury. It was only then that Fahjoth realised the mess he had made. His fists were coated with a thick, sticky spattering of blood, but he had no time to dwell on it. </p><p>Even over the ruckus, a deafening, unnatural <em> crack </em> suddenly rang out over the docks, and Fahjoth instantly snapped his head up to look for the cause. A single masked cultist, their dark, flame-singed robes billowing about them even in the absence of any wind, was brandishing a tall staff. Fahjoth was by no means an expert, but he’d never seen anything like it before; the body was kinked and dotted with curved thorns, while an elegant rose head sat at the top, stark and red against the rest of the staff which was dull in comparison. The strange crack seemed to have been as a result of the staff’s magic — a rippling sphere of indigo light hovered above the rose, and a swirling blue and black vortex suddenly ripped apart the very air in the middle of the docks, right in the midst of the brawl. And from that vortex, a towering figure stepped out, raising the largest, darkest greatsword Fahjoth had ever seen. </p><p>As the surge of colour faded, and the figure’s features became more apparent, Fahjoth was distracted for long enough that he failed to notice the cultist beneath him — their nose crooked and still streaming blood — struggle and reach up, before then slamming their elbow into Fahjoth’s face. His vision exploded into white stars as a blinding pain radiated from his right cheekbone and he yelled out and rolled back, barely noticing the cultist staggering up and making a hasty escape. Once Fahjoth’s eyesight had returned, albeit still somewhat blurry, he focused again on whoever or whatever the staff had summoned — and his jaw almost hit the ground. </p><p>Fahjoth was staring at a creature he’d only ever heard described in Vykstrus’ horror stories. Vaguely humanoid in shape, yet sporting curved horns upon its brow and beady black eyes that glinted maliciously. Its black and red skin was the same colour as its armour, which was as jagged and spiny as a dreugh’s cartilage. And when the creature opened its mouth, it spoke in a guttural, echoing rasp that chilled Fahjoth to the bone. </p><p>
  <em> “I smell weakness...” </em>
</p><p>Using the distraction to their advantage, many cultists began to retreat, choosing to watch from a distance while the Waterfront group flew into hysteria at the sight of the Dremora. While a few turned and ran, the others remained to fight, all attention now on the most critical threat. </p><p>But not a single one of them, without armour and carrying only tiny daggers, was a match for the Daedra in their midst. </p><p>Vykstrus was the first to get too close. Though he approached the Dremora with caution, attacking it with a basic Firebolt spell, the Daedra appeared to be entirely unaffected. Then, in one swift motion, it swung its greatsword down in a devastating blow. Fahjoth wasn’t fast enough to avert his eyes as the blade cut through Vykstrus’ shoulder like butter, gouging a deep gash through his torso amid a fine shower of glistening red droplets. </p><p>Vykstrus crumpled into a broken, bloodied heap and the outcry was instantaneous. In an attempt to get revenge, some of their friends charged at the Dremora with furious shrieks; one by one they were all cut down, the Dremora utterly remorseless in its brutality. Aerlewen, Taneen-Mil, Nari... among the bodies slumped and bleeding on the stonework, it was impossible to tell who was still alive and who had been granted the mercy of a quick death. </p><p>Then, another voice rang out, loud and clear even over the pandemonium of the Dremora attack. </p><p><em> “Fall back!” </em> Cassius yelled, the usually unflappable Imperial looking completely petrified. </p><p>It may have been too late for those who had already succumbed to the Dremora‘s wrath, but anyone who was still able to had very little hesitation about fleeing. The flagstones of the Waterfront docks were stained a grisly red, the occasional bloody boot print now visible spread across the ground as everyone began to withdraw. In a bid to buy some time, Abik snuck up behind the Daedric monstrosity and threw a linen sheet, snatched from one of the many wooden crates stacked against the dock walls, over the Dremora’s head, temporarily blinding it before darting away. </p><p>“Come on!” Abik shouted to the group at large, hesitating as he noticed some individuals still remaining. Fahjoth’s blood ran cold as he realised who was still lingering. </p><p>Merrick was dashing over to the piles of bodies around the Dremora — still entangled up in linen in a way that was almost comical had the situation not been so dire — with Ribyna hot on his heels. Fahjoth felt sick with fear. There was no way he would be able to restrain both of them, but he could at least secure one of them. Fahjoth lunged as they drew near, grabbing his twin firmly around the chest and beginning to drag her back out of harm’s way. </p><p>“Ribyna, don’t-!”</p><p>“Get <em> off, </em> Fahjoth-! <em> Merrick!” </em></p><p>The next events almost seemed to play out in slow motion. While Ribyna struggled, Fahjoth succeeded in hauling her back a safe distance, but he still wasn’t able to let her go for fear that she would rejoin Merrick. As Merrick knelt down beside Nari, Fahjoth noticed that she was in fact still alive, despite the deep, open tear running the entire length of her abdomen and soaking her clothes with a dark scarlet stain. It was mere seconds before Merrick was also covered in blood as he began to attempt to heal Nari’s wounds with trembling hands, more than aware of the Dremora staggering about less than five feet away from them. </p><p>“Merrick, get back!” </p><p>Ribyna, held firm in Fahjoth’s grip, was yelling for Merrick but he paid no heed. Fahjoth saw his already pale face totally drain of colour as, at last, the Dremora tore through the linen and tossed it aside, soulless eyes now fixed on its next victim. </p><p>The Dremora raised its blade once more, offering no mercy. Merrick, his hands still glowing with restoration magic, had no time to escape before the blade — already slick with blood — fell upon him and struck his head, cleaving through his skull with one clean blow. </p><p>As the blood spattered on the flagstones anew and Merrick’s lifeless body toppled to the ground, Fahjoth was frozen. An icy numbness flooded his chest, rendering him almost deaf to Ribyna’s screams. Someone else was yelling, their cries of anguish seeming to reverberate in Fahjoth’s head. It took a few seconds before he realised it was him. </p><p>Then, terror struck him mute as his streaming eyes met the Dremora’s own, the Daedra beginning to make its way over to where he and Ribyna stood. Its sword trailed red droplets as it walked, an expression of pure malice on its sneering, inhuman face. Just as its pace began to quicken, however, the Dremora was staggered as Abik lunged at it, bellowing himself hoarse with tears cascading down his cheeks as he plunged his dagger into the side of the creature’s neck. The Dremora turned to retaliate, but its time was up. Quite without warning, it suddenly disintegrated and crumbled into dust, leaving nothing behind but a pile of gently smoking silvery blue ash; along with the blood-soaked flagstones and the mangled remains of its casualties, standing to serve as a grim reminder that it had even been there at all. </p><p>Abruptly, silence fell over the docks, the only sound being that of the waves gently lapping against the stone walls. A chilly wind slipped past, brushing over Fahjoth’s wet cheeks as he struggled to process what had just happened, his breathing rapid and shallow. He had almost forgotten that he was still restraining his twin, and it was only too easy for Ribyna to break away from his clutch, taking him quite by surprise. He blinked as she ran, and his stomach dropped as he realised where she was heading — towards the cultist bearing the rose-like staff. </p><p>
  <em> “You bastard!!” </em>
</p><p>“Ribyna, stop-!” Fahjoth called, immediately giving chase. He just about caught a glimpse of his sibling’s tear-soaked face before she lunged at the staff-wielder, who seemed almost frozen at the sight that lay before them, their head fixed in the direction of the carnage left behind by their summoned Daedra. As Ribyna tackled them they dropped the staff, falling back onto the stonework with a strangled yelp. Ribyna then whipped out her dagger without hesitation and began trying to plunge it into the cultist’s throat, while they held her wrist in both hands and tried desperately to keep the blade at bay. As Fahjoth sprinted over, dread overtook him as he heard the familiar sounds of clanking steel armour and furious voices. </p><p>The guards had arrived. </p><p>With the oncoming force of the Imperial City guard heading their way, the remaining cultists took that as their cue to scatter, receding into the fog as swiftly and silently as ghosts. A few guards gave chase, but a small group descended upon Ribyna and her adversary, the former completely oblivious as she continued to attempt to stab the cultist struggling beneath her. Fahjoth gaped in shock; trying to haul Ribyna away from the cultist was none other than Captain Rusant, snarling threats and instructions to cease and desist while Ribyna flatly ignored him. The ramifications of this would be damning, Fahjoth was painfully aware of that, but Ribyna showed no sign of stopping. </p><p>She was unyielding; at first, it was as if she wasn’t even aware of the guards now dragging her away from her would-be victim. But as they were both pulled to their feet she began to flail and shriek like a frenzied ghoul. The dagger blade glinted in the muted morning light as it was swung wildly with careless abandon, Ribyna’s only drive being to free herself and finish what she had started with the cultist, who stood by with a guard firmly gripping their arm. But they weren’t facing Ribyna — their gaze was back on the gruesome scene left behind by the Dremora, completely motionless and silent. </p><p>With Ribyna making such a tremendous fuss, it seemed that nobody paid any attention to Fahjoth yet. Perhaps he could do something useful. He figured that maybe he could help calm his twin down, try to smooth things over with the guards. But the moment he put one foot in front of the other, he felt his heart skip a beat as the scene before him suddenly escalated into even greater turmoil. </p><p>He almost missed it. In one moment, Ribyna was struggling and thrashing about in an uncontained rage. In the next, her dagger had been embedded into the throat of the guard captain before being withdrawn, leaving a deep puncture wound in his neck that immediately began to spill blood. </p><p>The Captain choked and relinquished his hold and Ribyna slowly turned to look, her face blank and eyes wide. Occasionally she glanced down at her hand, now blemished and damp with the same deep red stain that painted the stonework of the docks. As the rest of the guards immediately rushed to attend to Rusant, Fahjoth noticed the cultist taking their opportunity to bolt and make a bid for freedom. Fahjoth wasn’t interested in giving chase; instead he dashed to Ribyna’s side, grabbing his twin by the shoulders and desperately pleading with her. To flee the scene of the crime was their only option.</p><p>“Ribyna, we have to go, <em> now!” </em></p><p>But Ribyna was frozen. She didn’t even look up at her brother, her gaze transfixed on the bloodstained dagger that she still tightly grasped the handle of as if her own life depended on it. </p><p>“Ribyna, <em> come on!” </em></p><p>The Captain’s blood began to spread across the flagstones, slipping down the cracks in between and creating deep red rivers that ran parallel to the grey. Rusant choked and spluttered, more blood bubbling from the corners of his mouth as he struggled to draw breath. Fahjoth tore his eyes away and gave Ribyna a violent shake. </p><p>
  <em> “Ribyna-!” </em>
</p><p>“Stop right there, you murdering bastard!” </p><p>Fahjoth’s head snapped up. With his fear levels peaked, he realised that he and Ribyna were now surrounded on all sides. Two guards still remained by the Captain’s side, but Rusant seemed to be beyond help. His skin was now deathly pale, and blood drenched both his skin and armour as well as the ground around him. He struggled to draw in wheezing, gurgling breaths; it appeared they were soon to be his last. </p><p>The guards were advancing on them, swords raised with their tips pointed threateningly at the twins. Fahjoth could barely think, but something had to be done. Noticing that Ribyna was still clutching her bloodstained dagger, he smacked it out of her hand in one hard strike. Ribyna didn’t resist. She barely even responded, still staring without really seeing at the spot where the dagger had once been as it went clattering to the ground. </p><p>“Alright, alright! We surrender!” Fahjoth cried, holding up his arms to yield. He grabbed one of Ribyna’s hands, raising it up to join his own in the air while she remained unresponsive. <em> “We surrender!” </em></p><p>He glanced down again, noting that the Captain had taken his last few shuddering gasps and now lay lifeless upon the cold stone, atop a mosaic of his own blood. Looking up, Fahjoth’s eyes darted around frantically as he desperately searched the docks for any sign of anything that could help - Abik, Cassius, anyone. </p><p>But they were completely alone. </p><p>Fahjoth’s shoulders sagged with the crushing realisation, and he stood still to allow the guards to wrangle him into manacles. His eyes welled with tears as he watched them do the same to Ribyna, knowing full well what lay in store for them both. </p><p>Both twins were silent as they were escorted away from the docks by the guard patrol. Fahjoth wondered if Ribyna was even aware of what was happening as they were marched through the city and across the bridge, towards where the shadow of the Imperial Prison loomed over them. It had once stood an ever-present threat on the distant horizon, a mere reminder of what would await them should they be careless enough to get caught, but now they found themselves being forced through its heavy wooden doors and into the gloom that lay over its threshold.  </p><p>And it was with a bitter hopelessness that Fahjoth found himself wondering if they would ever make it out again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As Fahjoth was pushed through the prison’s doors, the first thing to hit him was the scent. The air inside was thick and musty and riddled with damp, almost seeming to clog up his airways and pollute his lungs. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust; coming in from outside, where the skies had been a pale, blank grey, the dingy prison corridors were almost completely dark in comparison. A few small torches hung in brackets, casting weak orange lights upon the rough grey stone walls. Perhaps it was purposely designed to instill a sense of hopelessness in those who were unfortunate enough to be imprisoned here. Or perhaps that was solely as a result of Fahjoth’s current mood. </p><p>First, he and Ribyna were escorted to be processed, giving up their names and details for the records. Fahjoth was relieved that Ribyna seemed to be able to speak for herself now that they were away from the docks, but he was still worried over his twin’s mental state. Then, they were stripped of all their belongings, including the very clothes off their backs, to be replaced with the dirty, ragged sack cloths of their prison shirts and trousers. Neither of them were to be afforded any dignity in the process, but even that wasn’t the worst part. </p><p>The worst, by far, was facing the unknown, in the form of whatever lay ahead of them both. </p><p>Fahjoth wasn’t worried about himself, not really. There was no evidence of him being involved in any particular crime; the worst he could be charged with was public nuisance and affray, if the guards decided that he was involved in the confrontation that had taken place on the docks. The blood still staining his knuckles may have provided enough proof for that to be the case. </p><p>But the biggest cause of his anxiety was Ribyna. Not only had she killed someone, that someone was the Captain of the Imperial Watch himself, and she had done so in full view of all the other guards. There was no denying that she would be facing charges for murder at the very least. </p><p>
  <em> But to murder such an important figure... </em>
</p><p>Perhaps they would make allowances, Fahjoth let himself hope as the prison guards took them down towards the cells. Maybe they would charge her with manslaughter, seeing as the Captain’s death had been an accident. On the other hand, she was still also facing attempted murder for her desperate struggle to stab the staff-wielding cultist. </p><p>Overall, the outlook for his sibling was bleak. Ribyna herself said nothing as they were taken to their respective cells, which were situated directly next to each other. In a way, that was some small comfort. But on the other hand, the fact that they couldn’t see each other left Fahjoth feeling even more distressed. </p><p>The cell that Fahjoth was unceremoniously shoved into was itself no more welcoming than the rest of the prison. As the iron bars slammed shut behind him with a deafening clang, and a mechanical click announced the key turning in the lock, he stood and examined his surroundings. A single candle stood mounted on the wall in a rusty iron bracket, not doing much for the overall light level but valiantly flickering nonetheless. The walls were comprised of the same dull grey stonework, splashed occasionally with patches of moss and streaks of black discolouration where the damp was creeping in. A small wooden table and chair, crooked and riddled with rot, sat in the corner with clay cups and plates sitting haphazardly on top, but apart from that, there was nothing. A narrow opening — not even a window — sat high up in the stone wall, blocked with thick iron bars like those of the cell gate. The hole let no sunlight in, but allowed cold draughts to permeate into the cell, bringing with them a fine drizzle of rain. </p><p>Fahjoth shivered, rubbing his bare arms while fighting the urge to throw up. Everything had gone so wrong, so quickly, and a small part of him wanted to blame himself. The rest of him, however...</p><p>He shook these thoughts out of his mind; playing the blame game was of no help to anybody now. Instead, he padded back over to the cell gate, reaching his arm out towards the cell on his right, where he knew they had imprisoned Ribyna. </p><p>“Ribyna?” Fahjoth called, keeping his voice hushed so as to not alert the guards. On receiving no response, he frowned and tried again. </p><p>“Ribyna!”</p><p>To his relief, there was a small reply this time. </p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p><em> Thank the gods. </em> “How are you holding up?”</p><p>“How d’you think?”</p><p><em> Right, that was a bit of a stupid question, </em> he reasoned. Nonetheless, it hurt to hear his sibling sounding so broken and defeated. “Look, we’ll... we’ll figure it out,” he said softly. With the trembling of his voice Fahjoth wasn’t sure that he sounded convincing enough, but he had to try. “We’ll sort this.”</p><p>Ribyna didn’t reply. Fahjoth kept his arm stretched towards her cell, in the hope that she would reach out to him — though he wasn’t sure who needed the comfort more at this point. He knew Ribyna was suffering, and wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around his twin, to tell her that everything would be alright, but he couldn’t. They’d never been forcibly kept apart before and it was nothing short of devastating. As well as the uncertainty surrounding their fates, they were also left to process indescribable grief. </p><p>They had lost Merrick. </p><p>The youngest member of their group and one of the kindest people Fahjoth had ever known. It was a terrible injustice. Fahjoth had been very fond of him himself, but Merrick had been Ribyna’s best friend. Though his own eyes brimmed with tears, Fahjoth couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was feeling. </p><p>He had shunted all thoughts of Cassius out of his mind. On the rare occasion that his boyfriend — now very much an ex — wormed his way to the forefront of his mind, it incited both anger and hurt in equal measure in Fahjoth’s heart. After everything they had been through, how could Cassius have just <em> abandoned </em> him like that? Had he ever even cared for Fahjoth at all? </p><p>Again, he pushed it to the back of his mind, trying not to think about it. What was most important now was what ultimately awaited him and his sibling, and how they were going to deal with it. </p><p>Such an opportunity arose when a guard came patrolling past. The clanking of his iron armour paused as he stopped by Fahjoth’s cell, jerking his head towards him with a frown. </p><p>“Arms in, prisoner.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Fahjoth apologised on instinct, drawing his hand back through the bars. “Listen, um... I was wondering if you know what’s going to happen to me and my sibling? They didn’t really... tell us anything...”</p><p>Strangely, the guard didn’t decline. But perhaps it wasn’t that shocking; many on the Waterfront joked that Fahjoth possessed somewhat of a silver tongue. </p><p>“Vetharys, isn’t it? Sure, I heard the head jailor talking. You’ll probably get a few years at most.”</p><p>“And Ribyna?” Fahjoth pressed, his stomach twisting with anxiety. </p><p>“You mean Little Mr Murder next door?” The guard lowered his voice, though Fahjoth was well aware that Ribyna would probably still be able to hear. “Killing the Watch Captain is no petty crime, you know. If he’s found to be guilty, he’ll probably be looking at the death penalty.” </p><p>Fahjoth froze as his worst fears were all but confirmed. As the guard received no response he simply carried on his way, leaving Fahjoth to reel with horror alone in his cell. </p><p>He had already lost more than he could have ever possibly imagined. </p><p>
  <em> Was he going to lose Ribyna as well? </em>
</p><p>Leaning back against the bars of his cell door, Fahjoth desperately reached towards Ribyna’s cell once more with his arm violently shaking. </p><p>“Ribyna?!”</p><p>His heart was hammering in his chest and his eyes burned afresh, hoping and praying that Ribyna would respond. Being separated had been torture before, but now... </p><p>“Ribyna...” His voice was a mere croak, barely above a whisper, an anguished plea for her to answer. And she did.</p><p>“I’m tired, Fahjoth.” Ribyna’s own voice was hoarse and cracked, and it was only too easy for Fahjoth to know that she was crying. “Leave me alone.”</p><p>As silence fell throughout the jail corridor Fahjoth slumped against the wall, his hand dropping limply to the ground. In the quiet that followed he could still hear wheezing sobs coming from the cell next door, despite Ribyna’s best attempts at hiding them. It was then that Fahjoth let his own tears fall, trailing down his cheeks as he finally settled into a wretched, crushing despair.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>30ᵗʰ of Sun's Height, 3E 427</em>
</p><p>How long had it been?</p><p>Fahjoth had attempted to keep track of the days at first, but by around the middle of the second year all hope of counting was long gone. Past that it was just a stream of repetition as the days blurred into one. It was long enough that Fahjoth’s hair was beginning to grow white, in any case. Though he had no mirror to see himself with, a silvery strand would occasionally come loose from his head, which was both puzzling and quite frankly depressing. <em> Prison must be ageing me, </em> he mused wryly. </p><p>There was no leaving the cell he had been forced to call home. Food — if the pitiful morsels they were given could even be called that — and water were left at the gate. Sometimes, Fahjoth would be able to chat to the other prisoners, or even the guards. He’d managed to get on first name terms with a few of them now, who reassured him that a charming lad like him ought to be out in no time. The months and years came and went with no sign of this prediction coming to pass, but Fahjoth didn’t care. He didn’t want to go anywhere without Ribyna. </p><p>The guards were mostly reticent, but from the information Fahjoth had been able to glean from their interactions, he deduced that the issue was a complicated one. It seemed that the Imperial council, to whom the issue had been escalated, were having trouble deciding whether Ribyna’s crime amounted to murder or simply manslaughter, which would grant her somewhat of a lighter sentence and the possibility of avoiding capital punishment. But apparently, as one of the guards had whispered to Fahjoth one dark and dismal Loredas afternoon, Rusant’s wealthy and influential family were very angrily lobbying for a public execution, further complicating matters. And then there was the matter of whether Fahjoth himself was an accomplice in the Captain’s murder. Many of the more friendly guards assured him that this wouldn’t be the case, but it seemed that Fahjoth would be in for the long haul as well.  </p><p>But, oddly, he didn’t mind. Fahjoth much preferred being close to his twin over being separated any further, even if it meant a dreary existence in the Imperial Prison dungeons. Ribyna herself was mostly quiet; occasionally she and Fahjoth would talk amongst themselves, their fingertips brushing as both reached out of their prison cells towards one another. But she knew as well as Fahjoth did that her future was looking very bleak indeed, and it frequently reflected in her withdrawn and melancholic demeanour. </p><p>Until a day came when everything would change yet again. </p><p>Fahjoth was awoken early one Sun’s Height morning by the inconsiderately loud footsteps of two prison guards, who came marching past his cell at dawn. His cell painted with bright peachy gold streaks by the sunrise, Fahjoth hastened to sit up and hurry over to the cell gate. A change in schedule only meant one thing; either someone new was being admitted, or someone was leaving. As the guards weren’t accompanied by any new prisoner, evidently it was the latter. </p><p>His stomach dropped as he realised that the guards had stopped outside Ribyna’s cell</p><p>“Vetharys?” one of the guards asked, consulting a roll of parchment. </p><p>Ribyna’s voice was wary. “Yeah?” </p><p>“Come with us. Emperor’s orders.”</p><p><em> The Emperor himself had got involved?! </em> Fahjoth felt his heart banging as dread overtook him. Was it time already?!</p><p>“What’s happening?” he demanded, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice. Unfortunately, the guards were unmoved. </p><p>“None of your business, prisoner. Alright, Vetharys, stand back. We’re opening the door.”</p><p>There was a shuffling of footsteps and a clanking of metal, but Fahjoth couldn’t see what was happening no matter how hard he pushed himself against the bars of his cell. The next thing he was able to see was Ribyna being pushed out of her cell by one of the guards, her hands tightly bound behind her back as the manacles that adorned all prisoners’ wrists were firmly locked together. </p><p>The guards began to escort Ribyna out, and as she passed Fahjoth’s cell, he felt a shiver run down his spine. As she met his eyes, his sibling looked utterly terrified. </p><p>“Fahjoth!” she whimpered, almost resisting the guards for a moment as Fahjoth reached out towards her, ignoring the tears spilling hot and fast down his cheeks again. Ribyna’s own eyes were brimming with tears as she was whisked away by the guards without hesitation. </p><p>“Ribyna-!” Fahjoth cried, continuing to reach out to her even after they had rounded the corner at the end of the corridor and vanished from view, and even after their footsteps receded into silence. </p><p>
  <em> So that was it, then. </em>
</p><p>His twin, his best friend, the one person who had been there for him his entire life was heading towards her demise and there was nothing Fahjoth could do about it. </p><p>He howled out in frustration and devastation, slamming his fists against the wall of his cell, but soon his strangled yells dissolved into sobs instead as grief overtook him completely. His legs gave way from beneath him as he collapsed to the floor, his shoulders jerking as he wept without restraint. </p><p>Along with heartbreak for his lost sibling, a horrible emptiness began to take root in his chest. For the first time in his life, Fahjoth was now completely and desperately alone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>omg we're finally DONE with the prologue 😭 onto the actual game content now!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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